Documented
by Madison Square
Summary: PG-13 for language. "Blue suits you." Unique format. R&R plz! CH 10 up!
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer:  I own everything.  Mwa ha ha ha.  Just kidding.  _Newies_ doesn't belong to me.

[A/N]: This story is written COMPLETELY in DOCUMENT FORM.  
  
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Documented

==  
  
Chapter One  
  
==  
  
Madison Square  
  
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Dear Completely Random Person,  
            This is STUPID.  Letter writing is STUPID.  Sorry, the only reason why I'm writing this letter is because my English teacher wants to revive the lost art of letter-writing.  His name is Denton, because there is a dent in his head where his brain should be.  Actually, I'm lying.  But he does wear weird bowties everyday, so something must be wrong with his head.  Wearing bowties is OUT, just like letter-writing.  
            I hope Denton doesn't read this, because then I'll fail English, which would be a bad thing.  
            So.  You will be my pen pal.  
            Pen pal, I'm supposed to brief you with a few basics:  
            My name is Jack Kelly.  Actually, it's Francis Sullivan, but if you ever call me that I will NEVER forgive you.  NEVER.  I will be very ANGRY.  You can also call me Cowboy.  
            I like to ride horses, as my name suggests.  My horse's name is Santa Fe.  She's a beauty.  Chestnut colored and her coat's always shiny.  Her name is Santa Fe because that's where I want to go.  I hear that in Santa Fe everything is bigger.  The sky, the sun, the desert.  
            Anyway.  I'm seventeen years old (senior in high school).  
            I'm supposed to fill you in on my family, but I don't think you want to hear it.  I'm also supposed to tell you my favorite subjects.  Well, guess what.  I don't have one.  My best subject is study hall.  
            I can, however, tell you that I have a very nice girlfriend named Sarah.  We've been together for almost a year.  
            I'm also supposed to tell you that I am very happy to be writing to you and that I hope you will write me back.  
            Honestly, I don't care.  And you probably don't, either.  
            So.  What's your name?  What do you like to do?  Age?  Etc?  Sorry, I'm required to write that.  
  
Sincerely,   
Jack Kelly  
NOT Francis Sullivan  
  
Dear Jack Kelly,  
            The Weasel is breathing down my neck so I have to be nice (He's my English teacher.  He sucks.  I'm already failing English so I can say that).  
            He's gone.  
            You're one of those rich private school boys, aren't you?  You have to be, because all these letters are from Central Prep and that's the huge school a block away from us.  In case you haven't figured it out, I'm from Duvall High, the public school down the street.  
            Another reason why I know you're a nice private school boy is because you have a horse.  Only rich spoiled brats like riding horses all day.  
            Sorry, that was mean.  
            And only stupid people would want to move to Santa Fe.  Please.  Bigger desert?  Bigger sky?  Bigger sun?  You know what's big in New York?  EVERYTHING.   
            Sorry, that was mean, too.  
            I agree with you completely about the letter-writing.  It is DEAD.  
            I tried telling Weasel this, but he just threatened to fail me.  Like I said, though, I'm already failing, so the threat didn't work as well as he thought it would.  
            Now, getting straight to the point:  
            My name is Simon Conlon but it you ever call me that I'll SHOOT you with my dad's old shotgun he left behind.  Mom hid it but I know where it is.  If you write 'Simon Conlon' on your envelope next time, don't expect a letter back EVER.  Expect a madman at your window with a great big gun.  Call me Spot.  Long story.  
            I like hitting things.  Not joking.  When I was younger I was always getting in trouble for starting fights.  Since then I've started boxing.  You get to hit things and it's part of the game.  That's my kind of sport.  If you ever have a problem that needs fixing, call me, and I'll whip whatever guy's ass.  
            Whoops.  I wrote a - - .  I'm not supposed to do that because it's vulgar.  
            I also like my bass (the guitar one, not that huge string instrument).  I got my first one when I was eight years old and I haven't stopped playing.  
            I'm seventeen, too!  Last year of high school!  
            You probably don't want to hear about my family, either, but to put it shortly, my dad got my mom pregnant with me, then left her for another woman.  I think I may have a half brother out there somewhere.  So basically my dad's a DICK—sorry—bad person but he gives me money through the mail a lot so I'm not complaining.  
            Believe it or not, my best subject is physics.  Seriously.  I'm taking AP and I'm acing it.  I astound myself a lot.  
            How can you stay with one girl for a whole year?  My longest relationship ever with anyone was three weeks, tops.  My shrink says I have commitment issues because I don't want to turn out like my dad.  She says I have a lot of issues, but really I started there when I was little and I only go back for the pills and her legs.  She's HOT.  Maybe I should give you her name?  
            Why am I even telling you this?  You don't care.  
  
Sincerely,  
Spot  
  
p.s. remember to write 'Spot' on the envelope otherwise I will never write to you again.  
  
Name: Bryon Denton  
Class: English 12  
Week: March 12-17  
Monday: Introduce letters; short story analysis  
Tuesday: short story analysis; introduce essay  
Wednesday: Work day—conference with students on papers  
Thursday: letters; short story analysis  
Friday: **POP QUIZ!**  
  
==  
  
End Chapter One  
  
[A/N]:  
  
My fic Heavy Metal is being put on hold because I'm having a big brain block.  I get those a lot.  ::sigh::  
  
On a lighter note, I wrote this fic in documents because it's different.  I did the same for Letters to an Almost Cowboy, and it was fun, so I decided to do it again!  Yay!  
  
Review please!!!!


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I own everything. Mwa ha ha ha. Just kidding. _Newies_ doesn't belong to me.

[A/N]: This story is written COMPLETELY in DOCUMENT FORM.  
  
==   
  
Documented

==  
  
Chapter Two  
  
==  
  
Madison Square  
  
==  
  
Dear Sarah,  
Roses are red,  
Cherries are, too.  
Just wanted to say  
That I love you.  
I hope you find this note in your locker because otherwise I'll be standing next to the lion statue outside for hours looking like a complete fool. Anyway, meet me outside next to the lion statue in the courtyard after school. I'm waiting until 4:30 pm. I want to walk you home.  
Please, ditch your brother.  
I want this to be 'us' time.  
  
With love,  
Jack  
  
Dear Jack,  
Violets are blue,  
just like my mood.  
I can't see you  
This afternoon.  
It doesn't rhyme as well as your poem. I hope you see this letter because otherwise you will look like an utter fool standing alone next to the lion statue for hours.  
I really wanted to see you. Really. But right after school I have to take Les to play practice or I'll be bludgeoned to death by my mother.  
Maybe tomorrow?  
BTW, you have a pop quiz on Friday with Denton. I saw his weekly planner open on his desk.  
  
Love,  
Sarah  
  
Announcement over Intercom  
March 13  
9:25 AM 

Would Anthony Higgins please report to the High School Office. Remember, students, March 25, 7:00 PM is the Spring Formal. Fifteen dollars to get in. Itey DiGiornio, your mother wants to remind you to please get a ride home with somebody after school. Anthony Higgins, report to the High School Office. Now. NOW, Anthony Higgins.  
  
Central Prep School Newspaper  
_The Lion's Tale_   
Racetrack soon to be Expelled?  
by Gloria Newton  
Surely everyone has heard Mr. Anthony Higgins called to office a lot lately? Higgins, better known as Racetrack among friends, might be crossing the line.  
Recently caught smoking on campus, Higgins has just returned to school from a week's suspension. It is now rumored that he is holding illegal substances in the top drawer of his dresser in his room.  
When asked to comment, Higgins took up his electric guitar, turned up the volume on the amplifier, and bombarded us with chords.  
  
Mr. David Jacobs,  
As editor of _The Lion's Tale_, we at the School Board expected better of you. You are to recall this month's issue of _Lion's Tale_ and tell each of your writers that fabricating stories is not a suitable technique with which to receive attention.  
  
Sincerely,  
Joseph H. Pulitzer

Principle of Central Prep Academy  
  
Specs,  
You are a huge asshole. You almost got me in trouble for that blurb about Racetrack. Just because I was sick doesn't mean you could sneak in some article that I had disapproved. You're lucky I'm here on scholarship, otherwise I'd kill you.

—Davey   
  
David,  
BITE ME.  
—Specs  
  
Specs,  
That's Dutchy's job.  
—Davey  
  
==  
  
End Chapter Two  
  
[A/N]:

Shoutouts:

**Dakki**: ::is glomped::  
  
Dakki's read _Celia_, too!  
I must give credit where credit is due.  
This style of writing is really not mine.  
Isn't Moriarty truly divine?  
  
I love that book. Yay for Cruel Intentions! That's a great movie. Actually, I wasn't thinking of it when I wrote this chapter, but it works.  
  
Actually, other than the Pen Pal thing and letter/document format, this has nada else in common with _Celia_.  
  
**uninvisible**: I'm glad this amuses you. And now that I think of it, Jack and Spot writing letters to each other WOULD be v. v. strange, no?  
  
Review please!!!! 


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I own everything. Mwa ha ha ha. Just kidding. _Newies_ doesn't belong to me.

[A/N]: This story is written COMPLETELY in DOCUMENT FORM.  
  
==   
  
Documented

==  
  
Chapter Three  
  
==  
  
Madison Square  
  
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Dear Spot, 

You're not going to kill me, right? Because I called you Spot and not Simon Conlon. Should I beware of a madman at my window with a huge gun?

Is your English teacher's name really Weasel? That _does_ suck. I have a pop quiz in English in two days. What the hell am I supposed to study? Spelling? Grammar? Maybe he's quizzing us on letter writing?

Denton's looking at me really funny because I'm writing. He thinks I'm taking notes. Maybe I should pretend to be studious. That would baffle him. Ha ha.

The only reason why I'm writing this letter is because my friend Racetrack isn't here. He just got suspended again for fighting on school grounds. I honestly don't think he should have been suspended because he was defending himself from Oscar Delancey, who is a big fat bastard.

Was that too vulgar?

Anyway.

I'm not one of those nice private school boys. Nice private school boys join chess club and play sports and are one debate team. I don't do any of those things. All I do is ride my horse and make out with my girlfriend. And I play my guitar.

Race plays guitar, too. Only he's much better than me. I sing better than him, though. Hey, we could be a musical whatsit. A band. Wouldn't that be exciting?

Race's dad is actually friends with some producers, I think. Should I ask him?

I think we actually have a lot more in common than you think. You play bass, I play guitar. Your dad's a dick, my dad's a dick.

Maybe I should explain.

I grew up pretty normally, I think. I had a mom and a dad. I was spoiled because I was an only child. Then Dad started climbing up the occupational ladder. He started caring more about money and statistics than us. I guess it was okay. We were getting money, but we saw less and less of him. I barely ever see him anymore and when I do he just yells at me to work harder.

I hope I never turn out like him.

I probably won't, seeing as the reason he obsessed over his work is because he is not so good looking. His facial hair looks like a small furry animal has crawled onto his upper lip and taken up residency. He also has HUGE glasses. They take up half of his face.

My mother is much nicer and prettier, too. She's a psychiatrist, actually. Maybe she knows your shrink? Maybe not.

Anyway. I've been with Sarah for almost a year because I love her. Maybe that's your problem? You weren't loved enough as a child so you can't love anyone else in return? Sorry, my mom's been lecturing me with her psychological ways.

It's actually bad that you still go to the psychiatrist if there's really nothing wrong with you. You take pills you really don't need, and that's dangerous. That's what my mom says, anyway. She takes pills all the time that are supposed to make her fingers stop shaking but they just make her fingers shake more.

Anyway, the bell just rang and Denton's looking at me even funnier because I'm still writing and class is over.

From,

Jack Kelly

Dear Jack, 

I'm not getting out my dad's shotgun because you remembered to call me Spot. And yes, Weasel (real name's Weisel, or something equally as ridiculous) does suck. As for your quiz, I don't know what you should study. What are you doing now in class? You should probably study that.

Or you could just NOT study, like a normal person, because it's a POP quiz. It's supposed to POP up out of nowhere, you know?

Guess what! I'm not in school. I'm skipping. I went this morning because I had a test in Calc but the rest of the day was stupid. I got your letter in English. Then I had lunch, so I decided to leave. I'm too lazy to go back. Guess what else! I went to Mama Chen's for some take out with my GIRLFRIEND.

I was going through sucking-face withdrawal, but then this sophomore came up to me and threw herself at me after that first letter I wrote you. She is quite the good kisser. And she's hot. And she's smart. It's crazy. I think she tries too hard to get everyone to like her, though. It gets annoying a lot of the time. This relationship might last two weeks, give or take a few days.

Anyway.

Sorry about the nice private boy thing. I just assumed and that was wrong. You have a friend that always gets suspended and you play guitar and you're not in any clubs. I'm convinced.

Hang on.

Sorry, I had to cover the paper because Tracy was looking over my shoulder suspiciously. Tracy's my girlfriend, by the way. 

We should so start a musical whatsit. Of course, hard to be in a band when we've never even seen each other, ever. And we would need a drummer. Do you know any drummers? I do, but they're all jackasses.

Except for this Skittery guy. That's his name, Skittery. Weird, huh? His parents were drunk when they named him.

So Skittery's an amazing drummer but he's always kind of depressed and stuff unless he's high.

Sorry, you probably didn't want to read that. We're trying to get him to stop and he did for a while but it didn't last.

Your friend Racetrack sounds cool. Is that his real name? Did his parents name him after the place they copulated? If they did, then you can tell him that I'm sorry. Does he get suspended a lot? If he does, you should tell him to stop because then he'll get kicked out of Central and have to come to Duvall High.

Sorry about your dad. See, you KNOW your dad's a dick; my dad's just some guy who gives me money through the mail. I've never actually met him. He must be rich, though, and a prick, because he gives me a lot of money but never visits.

My psychiatrist's name is Jane. She won't let me call her Dr. Whatever because of some crap psychological theory. Her fingers are always shaking, too. Maybe Jane and your mom are taking the same pill. Does your mom know her? Do you know her?

And don't tell me what I can and can't take. Those pills are great. They're good for me.

So how are things with Sarah? I still can't believe you've been with her for a YEAR. That's like a lifetime.

Good luck on your quiz. It'll be tomorrow, I think, right?

Spot

p.s. Tracy says 'Hi.'  
  
Name: Francis Sullivan  
Teacher: Denton  
Pd: 2  
Assignment: Pop quiz. Short Stories  
Grade: 93  
Comments: Great job! It's almost as if you studied for this, Jack!  
  
==  
  
End Chapter Three  
  
[A/N]:

Shoutouts:

**Cassies****-Grandma**: Thank you. I'm glad I amuse. 'Tis a flesh wound! Is that from Monty Python? Or Romeo and Juliet? I can't remember.  
  
**Dakki**: Don't die! Epistolarily is a great word. But right now it's underlined in red because Microsoft Word doesn't like it. You're like Shakespeare! You make up words!  
  
**Ccatt**: Woohoo! Bad Boys! What girl doesn't like bad boys? They are the greatest.   
  
**i-nv-u50**: Of course I forgive you! Everyone needs a daily dose of Newsies. I think it's up to you if Jack looked like an utter fool or not. Maybe he'll remember to mention it later? BTW, does your penname have anything to do with the manga I.N.V.U? 'Cause it's a GREAT manga.  
  
Review please!!!! 


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I own everything. Mwa ha ha ha. Just kidding. _Newies_ doesn't belong to me.

[A/N]: This story is written COMPLETELY in DOCUMENT FORM.  
  
==   
  
Documented

==  
  
Chapter Four  
  
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Madison Square  
  
==  
  
Name: Bryon Denton  
Class: English 12  
Week: March 21-25  
Monday: Introduce reading Iliad.  
Tuesday: Quiz on first five chapters. Discuss.  
Wednesday: Group project introduction. Read Iliad.  
Thursday: Group project work time.  
Friday: Quiz Chapter 6-15. Present group projects. 

The Central Underground  
March 21, 2004  
www.centralunderground.com  
  
Ready for the juicy dirt no one's allowed to read at school?  
  
Racetrack's Last Suspension?  
You've heard the rumors; you've heard the announcements; you've seen Racetrack escorted away from school grounds. Is it possible that the last suspension—for fighting Delancey—could be his last? Is it possible that if Racetrack gets one more black mark, he's out?  
Duvall High, get ready for a new student—Anthony Higgins.  
  
The Colors of the Rainbow  
Everyone, even the faculty, knows that Specs and Dutchy have been a couple for the longest time. For at least a year they have been the best couple in school—the cute couple. But now, can our multi-colored couple be breaking up?  
Dutchy has been seen flirting with other men—namely, one David Jacobs (who is straight, we think)—ever since Specs sneaked in the article about his good friend Anthony Higgins.  
When we asked Jack Kelly, Dutchy's _amigo_, to comment, he glared and told us to stay in our own business.  
Touchy.  
  
Sarah Caught Cheating!  
Sarah Jacobs, sister of David Jacobs and girlfriend of Jack Kelly, was seen disappearing behind a school building last week with Oscar Delancey. Our sources comment that thirty minutes later, she emerged with her blouses buttons unmatched. Delancey followed five minutes later.  
Do we see jealously in the future? Fights? Tears?  
We hope Kelly will not be too devastated, as there are a few girls at the Central Underground who would love to comfort him.  
  
Homework Help  
If you are in English 12 and do not want to read the _Iliad_, go to antistudy.com for cliffnotes.

Name: Francis Sullivan  
Teacher: Denton  
Pd: 2  
Assignment: Iliad 1-5 quiz  
Grade: 74  
Comments: Did you read the cliff-notes and not the Iliad? I think you did, because I made sure I asked question not covered in the cliff-notes. Jack, you need to read the book if you want to pass the class.

Sarah,  
I asked Les the other day how the play was going. And you know what he said? He said, "What play?"  
You lied to me. You told me you were picking up your little brother, but you were really necking Oscar or Morris, or both. That is disgusting. They are my worst enemies. I can't even look at your face anymore. I can't believe you did this. We are over.  
  
—Jack

Jack,  
You are probably wondering why there is a box in your locker. It has all the things you've given me. The teddy bear from Valentine's Day, the ring for our first month anniversary. The necklace for your half year one. There are also some of your notes you have written me, like the last one.  
All I can say is that I'm sorry. I understand why you are breaking up with me. And I know you are using a note so you don't have to talk to me. I hope that one day we can be friends again.  
  
Love from,  
Sarah  
  
p.s. I'm keeping the charm bracelet.

==  
  
End Chapter Four  
  
[A/N]: 

Shoutouts:

**i-nv-u50**: WAH! Demon Diary! OMG that's the FUNNIEST manga EVER. I love it. I've only read the first two though, I need to get the others. I've been reading Paradise Kiss, and I really need to get the fifth one. I'm very much hoping that Spot and Jack decide to make a band. Hehe. Thank you SO much for the review!  
  
**Cassies-Grandma**: HAHA. Taking advantages of siblings is v. fun. I hope you get Monty Python soon, because it really is a GREAT movie. "She turned me into a newt!" Pause. "I got better."  
  
**uninvisible**: You're right. Jack and Spot righting 'dear' to each other is pretty strange, but amusing. I hoped you liked the chapter.  
  
**Strawberri Shake**: Jack and Spot aren't very friendly. Well, Spot isn't. Jack's almost-friendly. And Race was suspended for fighting. And there is Sputchy in this! Amazing. Thanx for the review!  
  
Review please!!!! 


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I own everything. Mwa ha ha ha. Just kidding. _Newies_ doesn't belong to me.

[A/N]: This story is written COMPLETELY in DOCUMENT FORM.  
  
==   
  
Documented

==  
  
Chapter Five  
  
==  
  
Madison Square  
  
==  
  
Jack, 

You don't actually have to read this letter. I need to vent or else I'll go insane. You can skip the next part if you want to.

--------------------------------------

My dad wants to visit me. It's Thursday, and he wants to see me on Saturday for lunch. What the hell? He didn't want to see me before, why now? When my mom told me I started hyperventilating.

Really.

She said, "Spot, your father wants to see you for lunch on Saturday," in this really angry voice and I could tell she had just gotten off the phone, arguing with him. And I couldn't breathe.

Mom had to get me a brown paper bag and tell me to breathe in and out, in and out.

Why does he want to see me, now? He's supposed to just give me money, and I don't ever have to see him. DAMN DAMN DAMN.

I think he must have gotten cancer or he's dying or something, and the doctor told him to tie up some loose ends, so he thought, hey, let's go visit my son that I haven't seen for all the seventeen years he's been alive!

----------------------------------------------

Jane, the shrink, told me not to fret over it. She gave me an extra dose of pills and said to just calm down and that I overreact with everything.

Shit, and he's going to see me when I'm hungover.

I'll explain.

Our Spring Dance is coming up. It's tomorrow night, actually, and somehow the punch is always spiked and I love it. I guess I get carried away and drink too much of it. Really, I try not to.

Is your friend Racetrack still suspended? If he is, you should tell him to come to Duvall High's Party. You could come, too. Maybe we'll even meet each other. Wouldn't that be exciting? Tracy's coming with me. I'm amazed that we're still together, actually. It's already been a week. I think she's growing on me.

This morning when I came into homeroom I was still kind of dazed (and cranky) and Tracy waltzes right in here and up to me and kisses me right smack on the lips. Everyone went "ooh" and "aah." It was like I was in a romance movie. You know how everyone says that when you kiss someone you really like everything goes BAM! and you don't know anything else that's going on around you except that you're kissing someone and it's wonderful? That's what happened to me.

Crazy, yeah?

Seitz (my homeroom teacher) had to walk over and tell us to stop because the rule is no PDA in school buildings. He was nice, though, and let us go on for like five more minutes.

The kiss definitely made me feel better. I think Tracy knew what she was doing, with the kiss and all, because when she left she whispered in my ear, "Don't worry," but I don't know how she could have found out.

Anyway.

So how'd your quiz go? I heard it was hard.

GUESS WHAT. I just realized that I haven't told you. I KNOW SOMEONE IN YOUR ENGLISH CLASS. Kid Blink. You know, Trey Ballatt? The guy with the patch? I'm good friends with him but I don't get to see him as much anymore because he goes to that Hellhole you call school. He told me you were a rich, nice private-school boy. But then I told him all the things you told me and he took is back. Don't be surprised if he comes and talks to you.

You still haven't told me how everything with Sarah is.

Have fun at the dance, and if you happen to come to Duvall's Dance, look for a guy in a tie-dye shirt, 'cause I'll be the only one wearing one, much to Tracy's disapproval.

From,  
Spot

Spot,

Can't write much today. End of English class. Broke up with Sarah. She cheated on me.

Coming to your Dance. Racetrack will come too, since he's suspended.

Sorry about your dad. Maybe he really is dying and you should give him a second chance?

From,  
Jack

Dutchy,

Sorry, I've been such an ass. I know I shouldn't have let the article on Racetrack be published. It was mean and unthoughtful and I wish I could take it back but I can't.

I'm sorry. Really sorry.

I want to take you out to dinner and then to the dance afterwards as an apology. Can I?

Love,  
Specs

Specs,

Apology accepted.

Can we go to Mama Chen's? They have great take-out. We can walk around the city and eat and talk and then go to the dance, okay?

Yours,  
Dutchy

The Central Underground  
March 26, 2004  
Day after Spring Dance  
www.centralunderground.org

Homework Helper  
Not up for reading? Go to antistudy.com for all your cliff-note needs.

Party Gone Awry  
It's been all over the local six o'clock news. Duvall High Spring Dance becomes a disaster. You readers may be wondering why in Earth we have written an article on Duvall High.  
The Reason?  
Two students from Central Prep were there.  
Remember, how last night Centrallers had panicked when they heard sirens wailing from down the street and thought, we've been busted. They know we've brought alcohol.  
Imagine our surprise when the ambulance stopped at Duvall High, and soon, as our sources say, a young man was brought out on a stretch, unconscious.  
Actually, we suspect that the young man might have been mumbling to himself, and still other sources say he was thrashing about like he was on coke. And maybe he was.  
Two Centrallers saw the whole thing up close—Jack Kelly and Anthony Higgins.  
Sources say that both Kelly and Higgins (who only came to this party because he was suspended from Central) arrived at the party, which was located in the gym, approximately five minutes before the incident.  
We asked them, discreetly, if they knew anything about the situation. Racetrack glared and pulled out a cigarette, and Cowboy only told us that the unconscious teen most definitely was not on coke.  
We have absolutely no reason to believe him.  
  
==  
  
End Chapter Five  
  
[A/N]:

Shoutouts:

**Dakki**: I hope your nose is okay. Hopefully, the tang juice is out. And don't worry, Jack and Spot will be forming a band (hint, hint). Hehe. Thanx for the review!  
  
**Cassies-Grandma**: Haha. Gotta love Monty Python. 6 o'clock in the morning?! That's crazy. And I'm mucho glad that Jack broke up with Sarah. I wanted that to happen in the first chapter, but it just dragged on and on.  
  
**Strawberri Shake**: Haha, you're so bad, using cliff-notes. ::tries to look innocent:: ::fails:: Serves Sarah right. I don't like her much. And Specs and Dutchy didn't break up! Thanx for the review.  
  
**i-nv-u50**: Hehe. Spot and Jack are SO making a band. Everyone seems to want them to, as well. I NEED TO READ DEMON DIARY. I feel like a neglectful, awful manga reader. Thanx a bunch!  
**  
uninvisible**: HA. Ur reviews amuse me immensely. Jack really should have slapped Sarah's ass all the way to Survivor Island. 

**  
  
Review please!!!!**


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer:  I own everything.  Mwa ha ha ha.  Just kidding.  _Newies_ doesn't belong to me.

[A/N]: This story is written COMPLETELY in DOCUMENT FORM.  
  
==   
  
Documented

==  
  
Chapter Six  
  
==  
  
Madison Square  
  
==  
  
Spot,  
            Are you okay?  What happened?  Why?  
            I walked into the gym with Racetrack and looked for you in a tie-dye t-shirt, and I found you, but five seconds later you had fainted on the floor.  Do you have any idea what was going on in my head?  I thought you saw me and had a heart attack!  I'm worried.  Racetrack is, too.  Well, he's trying really hard to not look worried.  I can tell though, because he keeps asking me "When is that fucker going to write to you again?"  
            Tracy's worried about you, too.  I don't know if you already know that or not, because maybe Tracy already told you, and you're making out with her right now and proclaiming true love, but I doubt it.  I talked to her after they took you to the hospital.  She was completely hysterical.  I think she really likes you, Spot, and you shouldn't do anything stupid to drive her away.  Like kill yourself.  DON'T DO THAT.  
            You see that?  I wrote it in BIG letters and underlined it.  Which means you have to have seen it.  
            Will you tell me what happened?  If you don't want to, you don't have to.  Is it about your dad?  
            Racetrack wants to write to you:

            WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!  WHY THE FUCK DID THAT HAPPEN?  What's your problem, Spot?  YOU ASS.

            Sorry.  This is Jack again.  Sorry, if there are wrinkles in the paper and you can't read this letter, because I had to wrestle the letter back from Anthony (that's Race's real name.  So, no, his parents didn't name him after the place they copulated).  Racetrack was being really mean.  He just got back from being suspended so he's grumpy from lack of sleeping-in time.  He's really trying to say, "I hope you're okay."  
            Are you okay?  
Your friend,  
Jack Kelly

Jack,  
            SUCK MY BIG HUMUNGOUS MANHOOD.  
—Spot

Dear Simon,  
            What happened with our Saturday lunch?  Your mother said that something very important came up, but I do not believe her.  I still have something very important to tell you.  When is the next time we can possibly meet?  
Your Father,  
Catcher S. Conlon

Honey,  
            I hope you see this note on the fridge.  Your father called again, and he wants to see you again.  You don't have to if you don't want to.  I told him that you never wanted to see him ever and to stay the hell away from you, but I don't think he's going to follow my advice.  He is a BIG ASSHOLE.  
            I'm still at work.  There should be a ten and a five dollar bill on the kitchen table.  Buy yourself dinner from Mama Chen's.  Maybe buy some dinner for Tracy, too?  
            I love you, Spot.  I don't know if I've told you enough.  Please never EVER do that to me again.  
Love,  
Your Mother

For Jack Kelly,  
            This is Tracy Scanner.  You probably don't remember me.  I was the girl crying hysterically when they took Spot away in an ambulance.  You know, the girl with big, splotchy eyes who was sobbing on your shoulder?  At least, I think it was yours.  I'm his girlfriend.  
            I thought you deserved to know what actually happened that night, instead of listening to all those coke rumors.  Let me put this straight.  SPOT WAS NOT ON COKE.  
            When I got to the hospital (I got Skittery to drive me, do you know him?  He's a friend of Spot's), I had to wait in the waiting room for ten bazillion hours before a doctor came out and told me about Spot.  By then, his mother was there, too.  But I didn't see his father.  I didn't expect to, anyway.  So, there I am, sitting in the hospital waiting room with my boyfriend's mother, trying to comfort her, when I also needed to be comforted (I know that sounded selfish), and the doctor comes out shaking his head and we are absolutely in SHOCK.  His mom (who is very pretty, by the way.  She has blue eyes like Spot's and brown hair, just in case you were wondering) looks at me and runs out of the room.  
            So it was just me.  With the doctor.  And I thought I was the one dying.  I would have to tell his mom that Spot was dead.  
            Then the doctor said, "He's alright," and it was like the whole world just came apart, I was so happy.  Strange comparison, huh?  But anyway.  He said that I could go in to see him and that he would go get his mother, too.  So I went to see him.  
            You know how you saw him at the party, and he was put-together and happy and HOT?  Well, that definitely is not what he looked like.  He was so white.  His hair was all sweaty and plastered to his forehead and his eyes were closed and he looked like he was barely breathing.  
            I started crying again, right then and there.  It was a very romantic moment, you know?  And I ran up to him and told him to never to that again, even though he probably didn't hear me, and I confessed that I loved him, even though I am too young to know what love really is.  I kissed him.  
            You probably don't want to hear this part.  You just want to know what really happened.  
            I had to ask the doctor.  
            The docs had to pump his stomach, they said, because he had the dangerous combination of prescription pills and alcohol inside of him.  I didn't know what to say.  Why would he do that?  Do you know why?  I'll ask him later, when he's feeling up to it.  
            Anyway.  Right now, Spot is curled up next to me in a big blue blanket and we're on his couch at his house.  I think he's sleeping.  His mom just walked in, back from work.  I smell her making us hot cocoa.  Yum.  
            He's okay, now.  A little pale and a lot tired, but okay.  
            Thank you so much for letting me cry all over you.  
Sincerely,  
Tracy

Name: Bryon Denton  
Class: English 12  
Week: March 28-April 1  
Monday: Discuss reading of Iliad over weekend.  
Tuesday: Quiz, chapters 20-25.  In class reading and discussion to chapter 30.  
Wednesday: Letter writing.  Quiz 26-30.  
Thursday: Journal entry: "What is one event that greatly influenced your life as it is now?"  
Friday: POP ESSAY TEST!  April Fool's!

Name: Francis Sullivan  
Teacher: Denton  
Pd: 2  
Assignment: Quiz, chapter 20 to 25 of _Iliad_  
Grade:  67  
Comments:  Jack, I know you were at the party on Friday night, but what did you do over the rest of your weekend?  Did you read at all?  Did you even read the cliff-notes?  If this keeps up, Jack, I might need to conference with you.  Maybe I should get someone to tutor you?

==  
  
End Chapter Six  
  
[A/N]:

Shoutouts:

**Ccatt**:  I fear the Random Laser of Death.  Please don't kill me!  I must say that your reviews are most amusing.  Haha.  I hope you liked this chapter!  
  
**Strawberri Shake**:  Mr. Conlon is a HUGE asshole.  I don't like him.  Yes, Spot hyperventilating was very amusing.  I liked it.  I like torturing my Spot too much.  Sorry, baby (pats Spot on the head.  He tries to bite her.)  OUCH!  Bad, Spot.  BAD!  Thanx for the review!  
  
**Cassies-Grandma**:  Thanx for the review.  What's the "Keep on Keepin' On"?  You always have the greatest…er…leaving (?) phrases.  
  
**uninvisible**:  Mutual Amusifying.  Yes, that sounds v. dirty.  That could be made into a porn flick.  ICK.  And I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'VE NEVER USED CLIFF-NOTES!  WHAT KIND OF SELF-RESPECTFUL TEEN ARE YOU?!  Haha.  Jk.  That's good for you.  Thanx for the review!  
  
**i-nv-u50**:  Do you mean "gravi" as in "Gravitation"?  OMG.  Because if you do, I REALLY REALLY WANNA READ THAT (and FAKE!)!  Haha.  Isn't Sarah totally mean?  And, honestly, I had no idea what you meant when you said, "They gonna sing or just have instruments with another, as yet unmentioned often singer dude?..."  Do you mean, like, what kind of band?  Thanx for the review!  
  
**Written Sparks**:  Haha.  Thank you so much!  Isn't Skittery the greatest!?  I LURVE HIM.  MUCH.  So, WHY are you only reading this now?  ::waiting for you to blush:: Sorry, that was mean.  Hehe.  ThanQ for the Review!  
**  
Bookey Elliot**:  you are the FIRST person to mention the connections between Spot's shrink and Jack's mom.  I APPLAUD YOU.  AND GIVE YOU CHOCOLATE CAKE (Unless you don't like it, then I give you yellow cake, and if you don't like that…then why am I even writing this for you?)  Haha.  I hope THE EDUCATOR didn't catch you.  Good luck with EXAMS!  Dun dun dun.  Ick, I should probably study, too.   
  
Oh, yes, and this goes for all you readers, what should their band name be?  Ehehehe (Not that, obviously. I was laughing, fools.)**  
Luv,  
MS  
  
Review please!!!!**


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I own everything. Mwa ha ha ha. Just kidding. _Newies_ doesn't belong to me.

[A/N]: This story is written COMPLETELY in DOCUMENT FORM.  
  
==   
  
Documented

==  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
==  
  
Madison Square  
  
==  
  
Name: Jack Kelly  
Assignment: English journal—"What is one event that greatly influenced your life today?"

  
Why do you want to know? Honestly, my life was influenced by a bunch of things. All the events in your life add up to something.  
For instance, when my father started to become distant, that really influenced my life. I had to take care of myself a lot. My mother is always at work, also, so when I was seven I had to learn to be pretty independent. That affected my personality, I think. A lot. I won't lie; I know I can be pushy and want things my way, but that's because I'm used to it.  
Another thing that changed my life was becoming friends with Anthony Higgins. I know everyone says that he is a bad influence because he is always getting in trouble, but he's actually really, extremely smart and creative. He's always the one helping me out on homework and stuff, not the other way around. I mean, that's the only reason he hasn't been kicked out, right? He's not failing any of his classes. But anyway, it really changed my life because I had someone to talk to. When I was feeling upset about anything (girls, school, sports, etc), Anthony would listen to me vent (granted, afterwards he usually threw something at my head and told me to stop moping).  
So I guess what I'm trying to say is that everything influences your life, and there is no way to pinpoint one exact moment.

Name: David Jacobs  
Assignment: English Journal—"What is one event that greatly influenced your life today?"  
  
Getting a scholarship into Central Prep. I'm glad I came to this school in the ninth grade; everyone at Duvall High, my former school, was too eccentric for myself. Some were smart, stupid, creative, etc. The point is that Central has a completely different environment. And it's an environment I can deal with.  
Not to mention that now I have so many more choices as the what I want to do with my life. Private schools give you an advantage in the college process. This affects what sort of job I will have, etc.  
Do we have to keep writing? My journal was very short, but to the point.

Name: anthony higgins  
Assignment: eng 12 journal—"What is one event that greatly influenced your life today?"  
  
learning to play the guitar.

Dear Tracy,  
Thanks for telling me what happened with Spot. I didn't believe the coke rumors, anyway.  
Have you asked him why?  
Sincerely,  
Jack Kelly

p.s. This is Racetrack. YOU ARE HOT.

Hey Spot,  
I'm not going to be sucking your big humungous manhood anytime soon. Sorry?  
Anyway, Tracy said you were doing okay, so I thought I might tell you what's been going on.  
First of all, Sarah and I broke up because she cheated on me with a Delancey. Or maybe even both of them. You know, the guys that attacked Race and he got suspended for it? So, she and I are OVER. Completely.  
The quizzes have not been good. I've been slacking and I should really study, but it seems like so much has been going on lately. By the way, can you list in chronological order the events that led to WWII? Sorry, I'm in history right now.  
Mrs. Larkson is my teacher. She has the biggest, frizziest red hair I've ever seen. AND she wears pink all the time, which clashes horribly, as Leslie had put it. Leslie claims to be the fashion expert of our school. Leslie's a boy. Anyway, Mrs. Larkson, when she talks, tends to sing. At the beginning of the year it was pretty fun, but now it's just damn annoying. Everyone calls her Lark behind her back.  
Denton's been getting on my case, too. I think he's actually going to assign me a TUTOR.  
I hope, if I get a tutor, that it's Blink. He's smart, too. He came up to me last Friday and said, "Hi. I don't think you're a nice private school boy." I told him thank you and has he talked to Spot lately?  
He said no.  
So now I have someone else to talk to in English aside from Race, who is almost never here, anyway. Blink was completely DISTRAUGHT when he heard about your little incident with the pills and the alcohol. He stopped smiling. It was really weird because, now that I think about it, I've never seen him NOT smile. He's okay, now.  
If Hitler had gone to art school, what would the world be like now? History question, sorry.  
Well, there'd be a heck of a lot more Jewish people. Not to sound racist, or anything. David Jacobs is Jewish, do you know him? He's the older brother of my skank-hoe former girlfriend. I think you know him because he used to go to Duvall until the eighth grade. He's really, really smart.  
Anyway.  
Racetrack wants to know if all of us can meet up and play a few songs. How about Friday night? Me, you, him, and Skittery. I mean, if we want to be a band, we should start pretty soon. We could all meet at Race's house. It's a townhouse, but if we play in the basement the neighbors won't complain. Or maybe we could play at Skittery's? You know, since drums are really annoying to carry around and set up.  
Anyway. Think about it.  
Sincerely,  
Jack Kelly

p.s. This is Racetrack:  
YOU BETTER FUCKING COME ON FRIDAY OR I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN AND BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH YOUR BASS.  
This is Jack: That's Race's way of saying, "see you there."

Dear Jack,  
This is Tracy, again. You're welcome for telling you about Spot; you had a right to know, anyway.  
I asked Spot if he had known what he was doing, but he just said, "Argh," and mumbled and then he kissed me. I think it has something to do with his father, though, because that's the only time he ever says, "Argh."  
So right now we're at his house in his room. His room is REALLY cool. You see, they live in an old church. His mom's an architect/interior designer, so she decided to renovate it. She really liked the high ceiling, or something. So the church is pretty tiny; the front room used to have all these pews but now it's just an open space and the living room and the kitchen are there. There are a bunch of rooms in the back that I never knew a church could have. One of them is his mom's room, and then there's an office, and a guest room.  
There's also a second level, which is crazy. There are these stairs behind the front room (they're hidden) that go up to the second floor, which is really just a big box-room (Spot's room), but then if you keep going up there is a bell tower. Seriously.   
It was a small church and all, but I guess it was important enough to have a bell tower. There's no bell anymore, but if you go up at night it's really romantic and peaceful. There were all these other girls' names written on the railing-thingy with Spot's name inside a heart, but I crossed them all out. I don't know if Spot's noticed yet.  
So. His room is entirely covered in posters of rock bands. There's Jimi Hendrix, too. And AC/DC, and Led Zeppelin, and The Beatles.  
There's also a poster of a half-naked Christina Aguilara that he thinks I don't know is there. He covers it up with The Vines whenever I come over.  
Right now he's playing his bass. It's beautiful. The instrument, I mean. Solid black, shiny. Well, what he's playing is beautiful, too. It's very impressive, actually, because most of the time no one pays attention to the bass player.  
I think you guys should totally start a band (Spot told me about it), and I'll be your first groupie.  
Sincerely,  
Tracy

p.s. Spot says:  
I'm coming tomorrow night. Except that I don't know where it is. I'll look it up in the yellow pages, or something. Higgins, right? Skittery wants to come, too, but he's not bringing his drums. I don't know how we're going to play without drums, but oh well. Next time we should come to my house because there's room and Skittery literally lives next door (in a normal house).  
Right now Tracy is giving me a death glare. It's quite sexy, actually. Makes her look dangerous.  
She just hit me. She says I have to apologize for being a dick to you, earlier.  
So, sorry for being a dick to you earlier.  
I can't believe you and Sarah broke up! Well, actually, I can. I know David, sure. He's really smart. But I knew his sister, too. She had quite the reputation for two-timing at Duvall. I guess she kept it a secret at Central. Still, sorry. That really bites.  
See you tomorrow. Well, actually, see you tonight, because you're going to get this letter Friday.  
—Spot

p.p.s. This is for Racetrack from Tracy: THANK YOU.

p.p.p.s This is Spot: RACE, IF YOU TRY ANYTHING ON TRACY, I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN AND STRANGLE YOU WITH YOUR STRAP AND THEN BEAT YOUR CORPSE WITH YOUR GUITAR. Then I'm burning your guitar a la Hendrix.

==  
  
End Chapter Seven  
  
[A/N]:  
  
**Still asking for BAND NAMES!** So far I like Powdered Sugar Freaks and The Lemons and possibly Random Death Lasers. Hehe. Submit YOURS! Thank you. Much love.

Shoutouts:

**  
Cassies-Grandma**: I can't believe you've never heard of Antistudy.com. It is the BEST website ever. It helps me get through the devastating year ::sniff:: (And no, that's not me sniffing coke, or something). Thanx for the review!   
  
**i-nv-u50**: ::forgets:: What was that again? Haha. I really need to update my manga collection.  
  
**Padfootismyhero**: YAY! Thanx for the review! Yeah, Spot's dad is NOT SO NICE. Remember, he is a big DICK. So, ha. But I love Spot's mom, too. She's very cool. Glad you like the story!  
  
**Written Sparks**: ::likes being unique, much like everyone else does:: Haha. Isn't Skittery the BEST? ::huggles Skittery, dismayed that she only comes up to his chest (or, hey, maybe that's not such a bad thing):: Thanx for the review!  
  
**Strawberri Shake**: Tracy is most definitely NOT going to make Spot reform, because Naughty!Spot is the BEST. If anything, Spot will reform HER. Ha ha ha. Isn't Spottie cute in the big humungous blanket and a cup of hot cocoa? Hehehe. WOOOHOO. Monkey socks are the only way to go. Thanx for the review!  
  
**Bookey Elliot**: YAY for The Educator NOT catching you. You are a sly, sly person. And it's a good thing you like cake, I can now talk to you without being uncomfortable. Haha. JK. I honestly don't think Spot should be taking all those meds, either. But hey, whatever Jane says, goes.  
  
Luv,  
MS  
  
Review please!!!!


	8. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer:  I own everything.  Mwa ha ha ha.  Just kidding.  _Newies_ doesn't belong to me.

[A/N]: This story is written COMPLETELY in DOCUMENT FORM.  
  
==   
  
Documented

==  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
==  
  
Madison Square  
  
==  
  
TOP TEN REASONS WHY "THE BAND" WILL MAKE IT BIG  
by Tracy Scanner  
  
10.  There is the potential of a great amount of groupies.  I mean, look at them!  All I'd have to do is put up some flyers and girls would be flocking to see their shows.  Although, possibly, I'd leave Spot out of flyer pictures, because he's obviously unavailable.  But, they are ALL super-hot.  
  
Except that they are all the resident bad-boys of their respective schools.  I guess, though, that everyone loves bad boys.  Except for good guys, because bad-boys make good guys look extremely wimpy and totally uncool.  
  
And mothers.  
  
9.  All of them are great musicians.  Even Jack, who is really only the singer.  They are already better than half of the talent out there, because they play their own instruments.  
  
8.  In addition to the fact that they are all great musicians, they also compliment each other.  Like, they bleed together well and none of them try to take over one another while they're playing.  Well, actually, I don't know about Skittery, since he kind of just sat there banging on plates and books that he set up as a makeshift drum set.  I guess that didn't sound as good and didn't blend, especially when some of the plates broke and Race got really pissed at him.  But, you know, I'm sure he'd fit in great, too.  Skittery, I mean.  
  
7.  They showed up at Racetrack's house roughly in the same uniform.  Loose-fitting jeans (but not the baggy kind where the crotch goes all the way to your knees and their boxers are showing; the rockstar kind), and tee-shirts with their favorite band names (The Clash, Led Zeppelin, etc.) (Well, Skittery was wearing an army camouflage shirt that read "Now you can't see me!" in bright white letters.  If I wasn't with Spot and Skitts wasn't totally stoned, I would totally have gone for him.  But, alas, my heart belongs to the bass player).  The band that changes clothes together, plays together?  
  
Or, no.  
  
6.  They are well on their way to getting a record deal because Mr. Higgins knows some music producers who know some managers and will do anything to keep Racetrack out of trouble.  Even going so far as to get him a record deal.  That is the kind of parental support every kid needs.  
  
And plus, after playing a few songs they realized they needed a keyboardist (duh).  And right away the boys were all, "I know someone who could do it!" "Yeah, yeah.  Me too!"  They got right to it.  They are organized.  Which is more than I can say for other bands, who need agents and stuff to schedule a trip to the local McDonald's.  
  
5.  Even though they have yet to come up with a band name, I'm sure they'll think of a great one, because they are all super creative.  And everyone knows that a good band name is what catches the ears and eyes of the potential audience.  Also, good band names will less likely be criticized by critics.  
  
4.  The neighbors didn't even call the police on us when they were playing in the basement.  This is a good sign.  Racetrack says this is because they couldn't hear, but I know they heard, because people were banging on the front door when I went upstairs to get a lemonade.  They were begging for an encore, I'm sure of it.  
  
3.  They are all already good friends, even though they've technically only met once.  I think Skittery was the only one who should have been nervous, but he was high, as usual.  Thus, the only thing he was nervous about was if Racetrack's parents would come down and eat his special brownies he made for us.  (I wouldn't let Spot eat any, as he is already on so many meds it's a wonder he hasn't keeled over and died.)  (Not, of course, that I _want_ him to keel over and die.)  
  
2.  They have a definite sound.  It's like classic-punk-new-wave-something-grunge-garage.  I can't place it, but that's a good thing, right?  It's original.  And it's not stupid original (like those bands who claim they have a different sound, but really are just copying The Rolling Stones and calling themselves The Stones Rolling, or something); it's good.  
  
And, the number one reason why "The Band" will make it big:  
  
1.  You can see it in their eyes and sense it around them; They were meant for it.  
  
 ==  
  
End Chapter Eight   
  
[A/N]:  
  
REVIEW PLEASE!

This will probably be the last chapter of this fic out from me for a while, as I'm going to California (San Francisco) for three weeks for summer school (!!!) (Not about summer school, about San Francisco).  You can probably expect me back around August.  Tootles.  
  
Also, there is a VOTE for the BAND NAME.  The following are the names I like and you may vote upon (obviously, the name with most votes win):  
Upper Level Parking  
Sugar Addiction  
The Screaming Bees  
Powdered Sugar Freaks  
The Educators (Ha ha).

Shoutouts:

**Cassies-Grandma**:  Thanx for the review!  And names!  I'm leaving you with a quote:  "She turned me into a newt!"  Pause.  "I got better."  
  
**Bookey Elliot**:  Your reviews are…hyper-active.  Haha.  That's a good thing.  YAY for no educators!  I turned it into a band name!  hehe.  Thanx for the review!  
  
**Strawberri Shake**:  Ah, yes.  Racetrack rocks.  Pun intended, I suppose.  ::sigh::.  And I LOVE Spot's house.  Wouldn't you LOVE to live in an old church with a BELL TOWER?  I would.  Or an old fire station.  Or something old and cool.  Like a warehouse.  WOOHOO.  Alas, Spot and Race didn't get into a fight over Tracy, but mayhaps they will soon.  Thanx for the review!  
  
**Written Sparks**:  Screaming Bees.  That is very cool.  It's the bee's knees, really.  Hehe.  Thanx for the review and I hope you like this chapter!  
**  
Padfootismyhero**:  GRRR.  I got out of school like four days after you.  GRRR.  And yes, Denton is amusing, I think.  Especially in his funky bow-ties.  I had a teacher once who wore funky bow-ties.  He taught economics.  Go figure.  Thanx for the review!  
  
**Song Birdy**:  Thanx for trying to give me band names.  Hehe.  I feel very accomplished, you know, since you said the way this is written was original.  Thank you very much!  
  
**Ccatt**:  It's all good that it was really short.  Thanx for the review and I hope you liked this chapter!  
  
**uninvisible**:  HAHA.  You're reviews are the FUNNIEST things in the world, in a good way.  FF.net is stupid and eats reviews or sometimes just half of them and stuff.  V. v. annoying.  I want Spot's house, too.  It's v. cool.  Like, crazy cool.  And, yes, there should be more Spot's in this world.  Really.  Well, then there'd have to be more psychiatrists in the world, too.  But oh, well.  Mutual amusifying…we should send that idea to Disney and see what they say about it.  Tee hee.  Thanx for the tip about Microsoft Encarta, v. helpful.  I'll have to remember it for next year.  And, please don't kill FF.net, as that would be a LOT of stories you are destroying.  Hehe.  Thanx for the review!  
  
REVIEW PLEASE!


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: I BOUGHT them. That's right. They belong to me.

As if. Doesn't the disclaimer go unsaid?

**A/N:** This story is written COMPLETELY with DOCUMENTS.  
  
**  
Documented**

**Chapter Nine**  
  
**Madison Square**  
  
_A collection of post-it notes found in and around Francis Sullivan's a.k.a. Jack Kelly's a.k.a. Cowboy's home._  
  
One  
J,  
Remember that I'm leaving, or, I have already left, for Philadelphia for my meetings. I will be gone until Tuesday. Go inside the house and look around. This is the condition the house should be in when I get back.

—Mom  
  
Two  
There is NO FOOD in the refrigerator. NONE. However, there is MONEY that I have left on the kitchen counter for you to order food for lunch and dinner. Keep in mind that if you have pizza everyday you will turn into a giant pepperoni. So, don't have pizza everyday. Thank you.  
—Mom  
  
Three  
Why did you open the fridge? I told you it was EMTPY. Look for food somewhere else! Use the MONEY on the COUNTER that is right behind you.  
  
Four  
Money ---  
  
(for food use ONLY)  
  
Five  
Before you go upstairs, remember that you have HOMEWORK and SCHOOL on Monday and Tuesday which you are required to do and attend. Also, pay no attention to the folders scattered on the stairs. I dropped them on the way out and was in too much of a hurry to pick them up. Don't worry. I'm sure I won't need them.  
  
Six  
No unauthorized behavior in THIS ROOM i.e. YOUR ROOM while I am out.  
  
Seven   
This is the PHONE.  
Use it to call me in case of emergencies. My number is 772-555-0624.  
Did you have fun at Anthony's? There were no police involved, so I assumed you did. Tell me about your new friends. Use my PHONE NUMBER.  
  
Eight   
This is where your DIRTY CLOTHES go. The laundry room is in the basement. Do you remember how to do the laundry? If you don't, ask one of your friends. For instance, you could say something like, "Hello, I am incompetent in the area of domestic tasks and need help with my laundry." Add the words, "mah gee" or "bling bling" around in there so that your friends will understand, just in case.  
  
Nine  
This is a PICTURE of you and me so you don't forget what I look like. We have just come back from the beach. Don't we look happy? I am the one in the giant straw hat.  
  
love,  
Jane Sullivan, i.e. Your mother  
  
The Chatroom  
  
**cowboykelly11 has entered the room.  
raceritaly has entered the room.**  
  
**raceritaly**: fuckhead. What r u doin?  
**cowboykelly11**: trying to figure out how to do the laundry  
**raceritaly**: u dusche  
**cowboykelly11**: it's douche, dick.  
**raceritaly**: fuck you.  
  
**tracy****'s****bitch**** has entered the room.**  
  
**cowboykelly11**: Spot?  
**tracy****'s****bitch** SHUT UP. Tracy made it. She says hi.  
**raceritaly**: hi, gorgeous  
**tracy****'sbitch**: DON'T hit on me  
**tracy****'sbitch**: this is T: Hi, baby  
**tracy****'sbitch**: Spot is being annoying.  
**tracy****'s****bitch**: am not

**tracy****'s****bitch**: DON'T hit on my grl.  
**cowboykelly11**: so neway I'm tryin to think of a name for us all we need a keyboardist  
**raceritaly**: fucking Skitts owes me fucking new plates. MATCHING ones.  
**tracy****'s****bitch**: get over it.  
**raceritaly**: dad threw a fit, so did mom. They want me to pay 4 it.  
**tracy****'s****bitch**: it's not like you don't have the $.  
**tracy****'s****bitch**: ashk;lq'10fdsa3jkl;  
**tracy****'sbitch**: don't listen to spot.  
**  
skittleskull has entered the room.**  
  
**tracy****'s****bitch**: hi, Skitts  
**tracy'sbitch**: hey, Skitts  
**skittleskull**: why say hi 2x?  
**cowboykelly11**: it's tracy and spot. Trying to think of a name for us, ideas?  
**tracy****'s****bitch**: The Pretty Boys  
**tracy****'sbitch**: that was t's idea.  
**raceritaly**: no.  
**tracy****'s****bitch**: well I like it  
**skittleskull**: upper level parking  
**raceritaly**: dude, genius  
**tracy****'sbitch**: that's pretty good.  
**tracy****'s****bitch**: yeah, really good. ULP.  
**cowboykelly11**: ok then it's upl. But we need a keyboardist too. race and i were thinking blink.  
**tracy****'s****bitch**: I'm blinking and nothing's happening.  
**tracy****'s****bitch**: nvm spot just told me you mean KID BLINK.  
**skittleskull**: he good?  
**raceritaly**: played piano forfuckingever so yeah  
**cowboykelly11**: y don't we try him out like Sunday? u can come to my house. mom isn't home.  
**skittleskull**: drums?  
**raceritaly**: prolly not  
**skittleskull**: damn  
**raceritaly**: hide your mom's china, kelly.  
  
**End Chapter Nine**  
  
**A/N:**  
  
REVIEW PLEASE!

I am a BAD BAD BAD authoress. Really. I suck. There are no words to describe exactly how much I suck.  
  
Well, first of all, I am _tres_ busy with school, as I am sure all of you are (or, at least, most of you). Therefore, I have, like, NO time to write. Therefore therefore, I'm going to let someone WRITE MY STORIES. That's right, I'm going to let someone else take over my stories.  
  
Here are the stories that I will not be writing anymore:  
Death to Spottie  
Heavy Metal  
  
Okay, so maybe that isn't the bulk of my fiction, but whatever. ANYWAY, if YOU would like to write the stories, there is a contest of sorts going on, I suppose.  
  
First of all, you must have read the stories (obviously), and then, you should write the next chapter. Or, at least, you have to write a part of the next chapter. At least one page.  
  
Then, email that part of the chapter to mi-squared(at)angelfire(dot)com. In the subject, title it "TITLE: by YOUR PEN NAME." Obviously, the "TITLE" is the title of the fic you are writing for.  
  
I'll pick one chapter that I like and you can take over from there. Sound simple? Sound ridiculous? Should I not even be asking??!  
  
Oh, well. What's done is done. Now, please, consider it.  
  
Also, the band name that won was UPPER LEVEL PARKING (Dur) by a landslide.

Shoutouts:

**  
****Ccatt**: hope you found the cricket. Don't worry, sometimes I hear this weird high pitched whirring in the back of my head and no one else can hear it. So, you're not insane.  
  
**XThespianWizardX**: did you change your pen name? It doesn't look familiar. Well, if you did, it's a very cool pen name.  
**  
Strawberri Shake**: Thank you! Btw, my house is like 75 years old and made entirely of concrete in the frame, so if there is ever a tornado, we don't have to worry, or something. Hehe. ::gives Skittery to Strawberri Shake::  
  
Skittery: wha? HEY!  
  
MS: goodbye, dearest! You are the slave of Strawberri Shake's now, since Tracy doesn't want you.  
  
**m-e lee12**: thanx for the review. And really, I'm not THAT original, I did get the idea from Jacklyn Moriarty.  
  
**C.M. Higgins**: what the CM stand for?  
**  
Erin Go Bragh**: UPL did win by a landslide. ::points up:: see? I said that about ten lines up.  
**  
Silver Petra**: I'm sorry it took so long to update! ::begs for forgiveness::  
  
**Bookey Elliot**: Hey! You do what I do! When you can't think of the word. Only, I say "Whatsit" and you say "Whatstheword." Haha. Random.  
  
**uninvisible:**   
  
MS: SKITTERY!  
  
Skittery: What?  
  
MS: Give her back her shirt!  
  
Skittery: No. Fuck you.  
  
MS: NOW.  
  
Skittery: ::takes off his shirt::  
  
MS: ooer.  
  
"We should get together and stalk Spot boy look a likes, and get them all together, and make a Mutual Amusifying film!!" Okay. Haha. Also, you were homeschooled?? That's SO fun.  
  
**Written Sparks**: everyone really loves Skitts over here. ::sigh:: Thanx for the review!  
  
REVIEW PLEASE!


	10. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: I BOUGHT them. That's right. They belong to me.

As if. Doesn't the disclaimer go unsaid?

**A/N:** This story is written COMPLETELY with DOCUMENTS. AND beware of the ridiculous not-to-plot chapter. I am frolicking.  
  
**  
Documented**

**Chapter Ten**  
  
**Madison Square**  
  
Jack,  
  
One, Sunday was nice. Kid Blink's pretty good, yeah? Of course, I knew that, since I've known him for forever. Too bad all his training is in classical music, but still, we can shift him over to rock. Also, YOU'RE HOUSE IS THE BIGGEST HOUSE I'VE EVER SEEN. Why do you need all those rooms!? A Christmas room?! Did you know that you have one bathroom completely lined in mirrors? When I walked in there I had never been so terrified in my life. I thought I was never going to get back out.  
  
Two, Blink slept over at my house, and so did Tracy (!!!). Don't worry, nothing bad happened. Much. Except that,  
  
Three, MY HAIR IS BLUE.  
  
Combine numbers two and three. What do you get? My HAIR IS BLUE because Blink slept over at my house, and so did Tracy (!!!). I am never falling asleep on my own couch watching Zoolander when Tracy and/or Blink is over EVER again. When I woke up my hair was BLUE. I don't even know how they managed to dye it, but they did, and it was permanent.  
  
Tracy and Blink are in the kitchen making brownies because they feel guilty. AS THEY SHOULD. I'm sitting on the couch again and if I look down my hair falls into my eyes and it is BRIGHT BLUE.  
  
I hear Mom's car. She's just now coming home from last night (shady?). She'll do something about this injustice.  
  
Mom just laughed at me. I am never talking to her again. She also said that I can't dye it back because "it would take too long for the hair people to match my natural hair color and plus blue suits you." BLUE SUITS ME.  
  
I am going to slit my wrists, then paint my walls black.  
  
And I'm never talking to Tracy again. SHE CAUSES GRIEF.  
  
late for school,  
Spot  
  
P.S. This is Blink: I had the awsomest time ever on Sunday. We should do that more often. See you at school.  
  
P.P.S. This is Tracy: Sorry that there are all these brown finger prints everywhere. If you smell them, they smell like brownies. I just ate 2. Spot shoved about half the pan into his mouth. Also, I am enclosing a Secret Letter that Spot does not know about.  
  
Tracy Scanner's Secret Letter to Cowboy.  
  
Jack,  
  
By now you will know that we dyed Spot's hair blue. However, do you know how we did it? Of course not. Here are the facts:  
  
We were watching Zoolander, and right about when Derek was going to do the Magnum look to save the Prime Whatever of Wherever, I found Spot had fallen asleep in my lap. If was so cute. BUT then I got a genius idea. Let's dye his hair blue!! Kid Blink agreed with me.  
  
We picked him up really carefully (Kid Blink got the arms, I got the legs) and were going to haul him upstairs to his bathroom, but since there was one downstairs we didn't bother. So there we are, in the bathroom all huddled together and Spot is propped up against the tub (I can't believe he slept through all of that!), and we realize we don't HAVE DYE. But it didn't matter. I went into Mrs. Conlon's room and for SOME reason she has blue hair dye. Maybe she was planning on dying Spot's hair herself? (We found out later that she had it because she threatened Mr. Conlon that if he ever stepped foot in this house she would see to it herself that he and his scalp were blue. WOW) So we were all set.  
  
We didn't bleach his hair so it turned out a lot darker than we would have liked. But it still looks the shit. Like, really. It is the best thing in the world. Blink wanted to dye his eyebrows, too, but I wouldn't let him. After all, I have to be seen in public with him.  
  
I think next time we'll paint his fingernails. I have the coolest dark sparkly purple polish.  
  
Just in case you don't believe us, I'm enclosing a picture we took this morning. He was still sleeping on the couch, unbelievably.  
  
Also, your guys' practice was so HOTT. I can't wait until you get your first gig.  
  
XXX,  
Tracy  
  
**End Chapter Ten**  
End frolic.  
  
**A/N:**

Shoutouts:

**  
****Ccatt**: Heeee! Thanx for the review. I'm glad I kept you laughing. Personally, I didn't think it was that funny, but whatever. Hope you liked it!  
  
**XThespianWizardX**: No need to apologize. It's good to have a boost of self esteem. I sound like a counselor. ANYway. HAHA. Powderpuff. That's funny. Also, I was dangerously close to falling off the face of the earth, but then I watched Newsies, and I was pulled back.  
**  
Strawberri Shake**: ::trying to think of an intelligent response, but can only think of chocolate covered newsies:: mmmmm… Please update Sweet Home Carolina!!!! I miss that fic.  
  
**C.M. Higgins**: Thanx a bunch! Yeah, I guess your name makes sense…  
  
**Bookey Elliot**: Your review is so completely random. Also, my favorite line of your review was "school is bunk." ALSO, we used a scupula in chemistry too!  
  
**uninvisible:** You're right. It's ULP. I'm just DYSLEXIC. Haha. I do that all the time. Like when a teacher is like, "turn to page 283." I keep looking for that page but I always end up on page 238 and when teacher asks what's wrong I'm like, "I can't find the page!" and he/she sighs like I'm a really big burden in his/her life. DID YOUR FRIEND TAKE PIX OF JEREMY SUMPTER?!!!!! I command you to show me those pix, if she did.  
  
**koodles4you**: Yay! Thanx for the uber-nice review! You have no idea how that made my day the, er, first time I read it, which was a while ago, since it's been a while since I've updated…I'll stop rambling.  
  
**LadyRach**: I did hold off a few weeks, because I'm lazy. How was the induction? You're a senior?! Wow. I'm going to be one of those next year.  
  
REVIEW PLEASE!


End file.
